These words that the Reverand Jesse Jackson speak so often, are very needful, and very important, In thinking of that I wrote this little poem.
A King was born, on Christmas mor… In a stable in Bethleham. A lowly little Baby Child, Gods sacrificial Lamb. God had to speak, and send a sign,
Young people should not own a gun, til at least, the age of 21 Oh God! help us to see this fact, Before we suffer another attack. How many now are in despair?
Yesterday, These were days of wonder and amaz… We were children growing up and le… not all were good days, not all we… The good days taught us to be than…
Be strong, when troubles come your… Be strong, everything will be ok, Darkness comes, just before the da… Just believe, don’t give up, be st… You feel like everything’s so hard…
Yes Life’s memories come so quickly to our minds Like a pictures flash moments suddenly unwind In a certain breeze
I write about my family, because they mean so much to me, Experience this is the key, to write about the family tree. My family are those I know,
She waits, and when the music starts to play, she dances. She moves in a very artistic way, she dances. The beauty just unfolds, as we sit
Why does it make a statement, in words that can’t be heard? Why does it speak so loud, without saying a word? As you ask yourself this question,
Babies really steal your heart, make you feel all torn apart. When they laugh you feel the joy, from the baby girl or boy. They always seem to bring a smile,
Sons are those a mother loves, and bears within her heart. Whether they are near to her, or whether far apart. It matters not because her love,
I write about America, because I… Why God placed this in my heart I… The devotion that I feel, has lit… but it’s simply because, I’m so th… I write about America, because wi…
Ah sweet memories, as another day passes again I recall. Embracing old times, remembering days gone by
Now I sit me down to rest, I pray the Lord my soul to bless, I won’t be anxious at all today, but rather take the time to pray. I will not worry, I will not stre…
Poetry isn’t just words, we write because they rhyme, Poetry comes from living, from experience through time. Those thoughts from the heart,
I look around with joy, in this place, I’ve always known. and I say to myself that I’m glad this is my home. I look around with joy,